Heaven, Separate Us
by Lexxis
Summary: AU. Complete. Sorcerers, knights and space battles. Chance meetings between two people bound together. Naruto and Sasuke or NaruSasu with suggestion of NaruIta in Chapter 3 .
1. Heaven

Title: Heaven, Separate Us

Charter: Heaven

Autor: Me

Disclaimer: I don't own characters, manga, or anything that has something to do with Naruto. On the other hand, I own the universe the story is set in.

Rating: T

Summary: Sorcerers, knights and space battles. Chance meetings between two people bound together. Naruto and Sasuke or NaruSasu, at reader's discretion.

**Heaven**

Lithe fingers danced over the keys of a piano. She was stunningly beautiful, just sitting there motionless a moment before. Now she swayed sensually, her neck stretching like a languid feline, all muscles soft and taut – just like a boy. Her face remained impassive, devoid of any emotion, and rightfully so, for over her eyes there was a strange contraption, a band of sorts. She was blind, as requested by her purchaser.

The melody she played was heart wrenching. The words she sang, more so. Verses of war, wait and want, love, hope and vengeance slowly escaped her lips, one by one.

* * *

Scream pierced his mind and body. The ship, it was anguished. It was dying as was its Heart dying. Both were in agony.

He strapped himself into the emergency chair. With the other Heart already dead, he was the only one that could overtake.

"Take her out, she's arresting! I can pilot this fucking thing on my own!" He shouted to the technicians. There was no time and they weren't questioning him. With dread he glanced at the sockets. He gulped. Never had he imagined he would control one of the Heavenly Kingdom's battleships. Never had he imagined himself doing something so stupid as the thing he intended now. There was only a slight chance of him empowering ship's defensive systems, and then, even slimmer chance of reaching compatibility with the ship itself. But, dammit, it was, slim as it was, the only chance he – they – had.

He gulped. And then he slammed his hands, wrists down, into the sockets. For a moment he felt nothing, except for a strange, sickening crunch, reverberating through one of his arms, all the way to his spine. Numbing pain enveloped him.

"Aw, damn… not the bone…" He mumbled, and then smashed his head back, crashing the back of his neck into the last of the connectors. Darkness.

* * *

She smiled sweetly as she stood up, fingers still on the piano. And suddenly, ever so graciously, as if she never moved from where she stood, she was over him, two fans in her hands. With a deadly twist of her wrist he gurgled, deeply and profoundly surprised, a mere second later drowning in his own blood.

A step, a jump, a twirl. They were dead before they were even dying, bullets hitting walls and floor. She painted the hall with long splatters of acrid-red blood. A twirl, a step, a jump, and he was the last, clutching his gun to his chest as she advanced towards him, sweet smile still on her lips.

As the shot rang, her head whipped back and the band on her face shattered. The man only screamed as she opened her eyes. Finishing touches were put into the great painting in red.

* * *

The ship enveloped him, not unlike a mother he never knew. It guided him. It loved him. There was nothing that could ever compare to this wild, gleeful, giddy and greedy feeling. Just like falling, uncontrollable falling that accompanied when he fought with all he had.

With a pang of fear he opened his eyes and the wholeness of everything made him choke. It wasn't just seeing, it was seeing everything and understanding it at the same time. There was no before him nor behind him, nor left, nor right, nor above, nor below. It was all just there.

So slow.

Rockets. They were leisurely advancing, but advancing nonetheless. Instinctively he raised his hand to protect himself. The ship murmured, anxious. Suggested. He protected himself and the ship took his order. Blue energy became almost, almost visible, just where he was trying to shield himself. Warheads detonated safely, far away from the body of the ship – their body – he suddenly realized.

Now the question was asked. If he was willing. The answer?

The magnificent ship that was lost and dying seconds before charged its batteries in unbearable cacophony of power, colors, sounds and feelings, all deep from inside his very own being.

* * *

On the top of the roof, entranced by the winds, she stood, her stained fans forgotten on the cold concrete. Hair whipped around her face. She advanced towards the rim of the rooftop.

Her eyes were charmed by the sight in the sky. She observed the ship, an elegant arrow just by the edge of the moon. The lights, they were so beautiful and refined, such a striking weapons of mass murder. Explosions were silent clouds of most perfect excellence.

Red arms massacred attackers. Red and orange, and yellow, drawn from the power of the ship's Heart. She chuckled.

Her jump was just a step beyond the roof. Her hands had formed mantras on their own and her lips shaped syllables – she glided, her eyes still feasting on the spectacle in the sky.

* * *

There was nothing he could do now. Fatigue hit him and he choked on his own blood but the force, the power that he had at his command – it was addictive in the least. Somehow he was aware of his body shutting down one part after another.

He did not care.

It was freedom.

Somehow he was aware he was dying while snuggled into the beating mind and heart of the ship.

He did not care. He did not want this to end.

And now the ship wanted something again – it was something that he wanted – and he was looking there, on the planet, someone was flying. Someone was…

The eyes, looking straight at him. The knowing smirk, directed at him, and mouthed word – for him. And he was falling, uncontrollably falling, like he had fought with all he had just right now, and there was someone waiting for him, still, after all this time, no matter how complicated it all was.

Nothing could compare to this feeling, he thought as he died.

* * *

She moved her hands again, and left her form behind her, shedding it just like an old skin. Her – now his – foot touched the solid ground and soon he was lost between the bustling life below.

"Don't die yet," he said to no-one in particular, refusing to look up and glance at the sky.

* * *

A/N:

In this universe there are three main factions: Kylthean Empire, Federation of Free Worlds and Kingdom of Heaven (or Heavenly Kingdom). Each of them has something unique.

Living ships are a dead giveaway of Kingdom of Heaven. They're not exactly living or aware, or even organic, but cannot function properly in battle mode without a Heart: a specially chosen person with high power level that can 'dive' into the ship's mainframe...and power the weaponry and battle tactics with their own power and will. And yes, the Heart really dying while being connected to the ship may very well wreck it completely.

The person connecting to the ship clearly is not a Heart, he's just up to specs, and hotwires himself, hence the slamming. He never did this before, has no neural pathways for this and he needs to make sure the nanowires will get close enough to the actual nerves.


	2. Separate

_Title: Heaven, Separate Us_

_Charter: Separate_

_Autor: Me_

_Disclaimer: I don't own characters, manga, or anything that has something to do with Naruto. On the other hand, I own the universe the story is set in._

_Rating: T_

_Summary: Sorcerers, knights and space battles. Chance meetings between two people bound together. Naruto and Sasuke or NaruSasu, at reader's discretion.  
_

* * *

**Separate **

* * *

The man in the Imperial uniform looked straight at him and he wondered briefly why the world hadn't frozen a fraction of a second earlier. Oh, sweet irony.

Ritter and Zauberer locked their eyes, both petrified with sudden realization.

They could go their separate ways and pretend it never happened. Yet, the undercurrent of hurt and betrayal they both felt – betrayal most intimate, for they both had their own convictions and reasons – held them there and then, tempers suddenly flaring. Action before thought was the consequence.

Zauberer moved his hand forward, lips parted, and threaded power around. Ritter jumped back, defensively, magic coursing through his body.

* * *

"You're never going to stop me!" Challenge. Accusation. Plea. Desperate acknowledgement of a cruel fate. 

"Is this the only way for you?" Misunderstanding. Please, make me understand you, I want to know, just know, and maybe it will all work out.

"It is." Fatality. Anxiety. Trepidation. Fear. Oh my god, what have I done?

"I can't let you…" Litany. Please, come back with me. Come back with me. Come back with me.

"If you try I'll kill you." Prayer. Please, please, come with me, come with me, don't make me do this, I can't do this, I can't, I won't, but I will, I will if you make me do it.

* * *

And one dying, bleeding, not being good enough because the other one was better, more proficient, more graceful in the gentle art of assassination. Because one was a murderer and the other wasn't. Because one was willing to sacrifice everything and the other wanted to save all no matter what.

* * *

Blood, burns and grime, they looked at each other with hunger, longing and animalistic hate, both drained. Their eyes locked over the distance of void between the two corridors. 

Ritter put his hand, then forehead, against the cold window, and the gap of hundreds of meters, lifetimes, words, ideas and hurts became nothing, as Zauberer did the same on the other side. They both smiled.

Because… Because there was still something they could never get rid of, something that whispered 'not now but soon'.

As Ritter jumped into the airlock of his ship, Zauberer did nothing to stop him.

* * *

In the end, what hurt even more, they both completely, utterly and desperately failed. Because one wasn't that much of a murderer anyway and the other one was almost a killer.

* * *

_A/N_: 

_The Federation of Free Worlds is not a democracy. Real military and political power is held by Zauberers, trained since early childhood to control of their powers and are usually loyal to the bone. While for Zauberers the wide usage of power is most important, Ritters train mostly to use their powers in physical defense and attack._

_Before one can become Zauberer he needs to be bonded to a Ritter. Bonded Ritter is Zauberer's guardian and acts as a stabilizing element since Zauberers often seem to be prone to mental breakdowns._

_A Zauberer of very high power level might (but only might) be able to take out Kingdom of Heaven's ship on his ow__n._


	3. Us

_Title: Heaven, Separate Us_

_Chapter: Us_

_Autor: Me_

_Disclaimer: I don't own characters, manga, or anything that has something to do with Naruto. On the other hand, I own the universe the story is set in._

_Rating: T_

_Summary: Sorcerers, knights and space battles. Chance meetings between two people bound together. Naruto and Sasuke or NaruSasu with suggestion of NaruIta (Chapter 3)._

_Note: Conceptually, ties a bit with 'Hate at First Sight'. Whole 'Heaven, Separate Us' is set after 'Hate'. Mentions of 'red-eyed grin' and 'monster' are references to the story of Raven and Kyuubi, which takes place many years before. If anyone's interested, I might try to write it out :). The 'talk' is the one they have when they meet first at the Court.  
_

* * *

**Us**

_**"" **_

"Why are you here?"

"Hadn't you heard it yet? My mother was an Aristocrat."

"Bullshit. Why are you here?"

"It's true, you know? I might want to stay here…"

"No. You. Won't."

"Want to say you didn't miss me? Don't worry, I know you're going to be lying your ass off about that one."

"My one word and you'll be shot like a dog, here, without me having to even flick my finger."

"What's stopping you now?"

"Decency."

"Decency? You've got to be fucking shitting me. How the fuck do you expect me to believe that you found some decency in this den of fucking vipers? Are you fucking blind, retarded or both already?"

"My health is no concern of yours."

"Sonnova… It is my concern, you conceited fucker!"

"Why?"

"You ask why, you fucker? You dare to ask? You really dare to ask!? Fine! I'll tell you! Because I fucking hate you! I hate you so much that I fucking care and fucking need you! And, fuck, I'm going to bring you home where you belong!"

"Here is where I belong now."

"Like fuck you do!"

_**"" **_

Painfully aware of the hand resting on his back, with an undisputed envy he studies the other one mingling with lower gentry. Those clothes, they do fit him, he realizes, not content with only observing and yet unable to do anything more.

And there's this other one, with her ridiculous hair and dress, completely out of place here. He loathes her, not enough to want her, but enough to want to kill her. He loathes her the most when the blonde showers her with his attention, attention that should be focused elsewhere. Anywhere but her. Anywhere but the lot of them that think they can gain something – be it pleasure or be it power – through the blonde.

Suddenly, he rises, leaving the man by his side alone and slightly surprised. With a sneer on his face he crosses the distance between the blonde and himself, and with unchecked rage, eyes flicking black and red, he pulls him close and locks them in a frenzied kiss. There are teeth clicking and a bit of blood.

Then he turns away, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and dares anyone and everyone to challenge or defy him. He longs for it. Not one tries to encroach on his territory while the predator is still on the prowl.

_**"" **_

"Is it fucking worth, all this? Answer me, is it worth anything at all? Have you a fucking clue what you've done through all this time?"

"Of course."

"Of course what?"

"Of course I know what I've done. I've murdered countless people in the service of the Empire and no thing I've ever done was worth as much as this."

"Why…?"

"Why what now?"

"…why are you saying this? Why are you doing this? I don't understand you…"

"You never did."

"I guess not. You're a fucking enigma, you know? Total fucking enigma. And you know what else? I. Don't. Care."

"You never were the bright one."

"I don't care. You can insult me again and again, fucker, but I'm dragging your arse back, you bloody murderous bastard."

"No."

_**"" **_

There's that red-eyed ferocious grin that actually makes a shiver of fear travel down his spine. This expression on the blonde's face, it's too close to madness, pure, unadulterated craziness beyond crazy, one step too far to ever come back to the sanity. It makes him cower, terrified, and lash out in panicked defense.

Sometimes he dreams of raging fire and the red-eyed grin. A monster looks down on him, lunges at him, tears his body to shreds, and the only emotion he feels is sadness while he lifts his hand to caress the maw of the creature feasting on his flesh. Some kind of muddled allegory, he's sure.

He hates those dreams even more than the dreams of that man and his brother, and the day everything changed. But, nonetheless, he thinks it was that day that defined hate and indifference as the focal points of his existence.

He shudders when the blonde, red-eyed grin and all the rest intact, pulls the trigger. Blood splatters everywhere.

He was supposed to be the reckless murderer here, not the blonde. Time unfroze. Faster than anything they've ever seen the red-eyed beast has hidden himself behind his personal shield, and then rushed forward with a flurry of brutal and deadly hits. He grabbed something from the leader as the man set himself on fire, the hand immediately covered by blisters and clutching the box safely behind the curtain of fingers.

House Saba was in trouble. The brunette observed as red faded into cerulean blue. Only then he choked back a sudden whimper of relief and let the breath he was holding till now escape his lips.

_**"" **_

"Listen… You don't have to go back there, just come back with me… I've got some friends, and nobody will be able to touch you. Leave from here, even without me… Please."

"I've got too much to learn."

"From whom? Him? Don't be ridiculous! Fucker's dying and wants to take you with him!"

"You won't understand."

"I won't understand that through this bastard you want to gain the access to your brother and the means to kill him? Don't look at me like this, you fucker. Apparently, I'm not as retarded as you seem to think."

"So?"

"So what? Your best shot at the fucker is with me, he's kinda… pissed off at me and kinda wants me dead or close or something, and really can't blame him after that time. Or that time. Frankly, if I were him I'd like to murder myself in sleep but it's not like the fucker didn't deserve it. Whole lot of them. Funny how that turned out."

"…you're babbling."

"Yeah, I know I'm fucking babbling."

"How come… Itachi wants you dead?"

"You know, the usual. He knows about you, and then I was gathering some intel, and he was drunk and doped, I got drunk, one thing lead to another…"

"You …fucked him!?!"

"Oh, fuck, no. Ava, I hope it's not the fucking case. I mean, I don't remember exactly but that's… possible and totally revolting. Kind of kinky too."

"Apparently you're even more abysmally retarded than I've ever expected you to be. Who. Else. Did. You. Fuck!?!"

"…fuck."

_**"" **_

There are eyes, everywhere. There are ears.

Five watch as the blonde lingers at his door. Seven see him leave hours later.

They play easily this twisted charade of pretense and false signals. The blonde, he doesn't give a shit about anyone, jumping from one to another; he uses them as much as they use him. The brunette, he flaunts his control over his 'lover' (or should it be 'hater'?); sudden fits of his possessiveness make the morning news at the Court.

It's not really a charade at all. The blonde, he doesn't care for anyone but the brunette and the brunette, he is jealous to the core, afraid that someone will steal the blonde from him. Yet, still, they continue for those that watch, listen and spy.

_**"" **_

"That wasn't the most intelligent thing I've ever did."

"I'll kill you."

"…I didn't mean it like that!"

"I'll kill you."

"And sorry about, you know, your shirt."

"I'll so fucking kill you."

"Now, I didn't just jump myself here, did I?"

"Shut. Up."

"If I snog the bastard you're going to do this again?"

"…snog. Whom!?!"

"Friggin Weasel."

"…if you as much as even consider doing this I'm going to manually rip off some parts of your anatomy you hold particularly dear. So help me Ava."

"Sheesh. It's not like I'd do him while sober anyway."

"So you admit!"

"Huh...? No, fuck, no! I admit nothing! You can't prosecute me for something you have no proof of!"

"You just said…"

"Last time I've seen him he was sporting a new haircut and a rather prominent tattoo on his buttock."

"Ah. Well. Okay… Wait! How the fuck were you able to see his ass!?!"

"…fuck."

_**"" **_

Somehow, they are drawn together. Their eyes meet over the crowd and not one courtier notices. It would be much harder if they did and knew how deep the bond runs and how it hurts to only see and only observe.

In the end, the brunette is going to disappear and go after that man to get the blood debt out of his body, leaving the blonde behind.

Not because he worries. He doesn't worry. He just doesn't want to see this mad red-eyed grin that makes his skin crawl and turns his stomach. He hates being nauseous.

And he's jealous. He knows that he and that man look alike and he knows what might have happened between those two. He's not going to risk it again.

_**"" **_

"Will you come back with me? No strings. I promise."

"I… I'll think about it."

"Good enough for now. But I'm not leaving."

"I know… Thank you."

* * *

_A/N:_

_This time Empire. And what does Empire have that other two factions lack? The Imperial Court of course. There's no greater 'wretched hive of scum and villainy' anywhere in the universe. Okay, Kingdom of Heaven has its own royal court but it's a completely different thing from the Imperial Court._


End file.
